Pluto and Trivia
by vikibez
Summary: In all his eons of life, Milo has had time to come to terms with his imminent demise. But he's never quite been able to quell his love of revenge and long journeys. When his latest birthmarked conquest draws him out of his shell and into the new age, will Milo finally be able to let the past go ... or will he succumb to his insatiable desires?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

Little Red and the Wolf's Curiosity

It was the pungent smell of roasted meat that woke Thea up.

That and the bellowing of somebody's loud voice! Could it have been any louder? She was a sensitive gal. This noise was just … so very unnecessary.

Then there was the fact that she could barely move. Thea was lying down, that much she was sure about. She felt that strange weightlessness that comes when the stomach kind of sticks to the spine.

You know, the one that makes girls feel like they have abs? The kind that comes on when the body is hurtling down an incline on a rollercoaster?

Oh yes, it was definitely that kind of sick, mutinous feeling she knew was coming.

Usually this would have preceded puking of the Exorcist variety, but Thea felt that to puke at that precise moment in time would mean to possibly choke herself.

She tried to move her body up off the place it was resting upon, but to no avail. She only succeeded in pissing off the Voice.

At least, she thought she did, if his anger was indicated by a rush of even louder sounds.

"Now, Thea, do you really want me to have to put the restraints back on? You know the less you struggle, the easier this will all be", the Voice stated.

As the smell of roasting meat got stronger, Thea's eyes watered and finally cracked open. Her vision was blurry, no doubt due to the raging pain she felt coursing through her head, shoulders, and neck. But when she looked up, she thought the she could vaguely make out who the Voice belonged to. She looked up and saw a boy.

A boy?!

Boys were rare, indeed.

Boys were temptation and Thea really couldn't handle temptation.

Once was enough for any girl to learn her lesson, after all.

Right?

She hoped so, for her sake.

Thea did _not_ feel like getting her hands dirty.

The boy moved and said some other loud things, but she couldn't really hear him. It might as well have been gibberish. Her ears were still ringing. And it was painful. So, so, so very painful!

It was like someone had stuck a red hot poker into her spinal cord and twisted it about. She did not want to be a human cotton candy maker.

She had goals, after all. Besides, carnivals were full of temptation.

And once was enough for any girl to learn her lesson.

Right?

Thea did _not_ want to go near another abandoned carousel.

She moved to ease the aches in her body, but as soon as she tried, someone's cold, wet hands clutched her small wrists and twisted them back, slamming them down with a force so strong, it was all she could do not to cry.

"Thea, stop screaming! Jesus! Can't you see you're just making it worse for yourself?"

The boy's voice grew shrill. Was that annoyance she sensed coming from him? And who in the world was the wrist grabber?!

Clearly it wasn't the first boy. From what little she could make out, Thea noticed that this boy wasn't even touching her. He was just standing there, clutching his hands to his arms, and looking down at her.

So … who was the other person?

Thea twisted her head back, ignoring the pain that crashed around inside of her. She saw nothing.

Where was … whoever he or she was?

It was probably a man, she figured. The force behind that slam was too strong to have come from a woman.

And her wrists were now shackled to whatever it was that she was laying down on.

Thea moved her legs around only to find that her ankles were shackled down as well. How awkward!

I mean, goodness, there was a time and place for that … but this was not it!

What were these idiots planning?!

Thea could only hope that it did not involve her being raped and having her own organs sold on the black market.

That was just so cliché.

Besides, she was missing her gallbladder. Who wanted damaged goods?! And her organs must have been tiny. Sure, she was young and strong, but … tiny organs? She would bet they would sell for very little.

These thoughts were not reassuring, naturally.

She must have been crying, because she felt moisture drip down her face and into the crevices on her neck.

And then there was the sick, roiling feeling again in her stomach as someone's tongue leaned over to catch her tears.

"Ah, salty. Perfect. Don't move, girl…", the other Voice stated.

Aha.

So it was a man's voice!

She couldn't help the shudder she let out as his breath moved over her face.

"Soon, little girl, don't you cry … just wait …" And with that insidious chuckle, the other Voice disappeared.

Then there was only the pain as Thea felt the deep pressure and indentations of her constraints against her sensitive skin.

The pain must have been some type of catalyst for her damaged senses. God only knew how. She heard that last comment perfectly well, and much to her surprise … soft sobbing.

Had she been sobbing?

Out loud?

Well. Who could blame her? She had no idea what the hell was going on! Some maniac had tied her to … what, exactly?

She had no idea.

Then there was the stench of that meat, just pervading everything.

It was revolting.

She might have thrown up if the first boy hadn't leaned over and grabbed her by the hair.

Thea winced.

His face was now in her line of vision.

Good, god! He was stunning.

She had never seen anything like _him_ before. Boys this good looking were rare in the town she lived in. She would have noticed him immediately if she had seen him before, Thea mused.

He was like those fancy statues she loved to stare at in the art books her Auntie Meryl had sent her. The ones which were carved by famous Renaissance artists! He was positively cherubic.

But the look in his eyes was simply demonic.

It was wrong, she thought. He was wrong.

He looked so good, yet his eyes were so bad.

But then there was his _smell_. God, he smelled like an angel too.

Well, if angels were real.

He was clearly _not_ an angel.

An angel would probably be more kind to her than he was.

The boy leaned over her face and Thea caught another whiff of his neck. It was calming. Not enough to subdue her sobbing of course, but enough to get her shaking to stop. It was the smell of the forest, and of berries and musk and … Thea couldn't be sure, since she didn't go around smelling bodily fluids all that often …but he smelled like, well, blood!

It was wonderful. She took a deep breathe in and shuddered once more, slowly.

And then the cherubic devil spoke.

"Thea, you really need to be calmer. All this silly behavior is not going to win you any favors. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that if you struggle he will just be crueler."

And with that, he backed off. His voice held annoyance and boredom.

He was bored?

Was having a girl tied down not exciting to him?

Who was this idiot?!

From what Thea knew of men, they LOVED to see women tied down! It excited them! It gave their manly bits feelings!

And he dared to be … bored?!

Thea was not amused.

Cherubic devil be damned, he was still just a _boy_.

She sniffled and swallowed the knot in her throat. Her eyes rolled to the left, away from his positively delectable face. This position allowed her to take a quick glance around her surroundings, and more importantly, the contraption which was holding her aloft!

Thea saw wood. She was on a table? A wooden table?

Where they serious?

Didn't they realize just how much blood would soak into it? It would be impossible to clean up after themselves! She grinned slightly to herself.

This would make it easier for the police to track down these idiots, if they ever went through with their threats. Thea would make sure of it.

"Is there a reason I see that smile on your face, Thea?" The cherubic imposter had the nerve to move his head closer towards the girl's neck, as if to inhale her scent. It was a mistake. He knew it was a mistake. He _knew_ what was on the line.

And yet, he just wanted a taste. A quick taste, he promised himself, as the razor sharp points of his canine teeth extended from his mouth. He leaned in closer to her neck, rubbing his nose against the pulse that came from her engorged carotid artery.

He was so close …

Thea was not immune to his touch. The fact that the strange boy was nuzzling her neck was not altogether unpleasant. It was the circumstances that really got to her, she thought. If it were another place and time, another situation, perhaps she would have been more inclined to accept his advances.

But this? It was hardly appropriate! No matter that Thea shuddered when she heard the slight growl that emanated from his throat as he sniffed her. This was hardly the time or place! His grip in her hair tightened, and Thea winced in pain. She figured the polite thing to do was to ask him to release his superman-like strength on her precious locks, so she made a feeble attempt to speak. It was not easy, what with her throat aching and all.

"Can't you-", she started to say, and was rudely interrupted, as his very long, beastly fingers clamped over her mouth.

"Don't ruin the moment, sweetheart. Your voice is not necessary. Unless, of course, you're planning on screaming again. Then your voice is more than welcome." He grinned like the devil he was, and leaned down once again, cradling her head in his hands.

And Thea could not control her sobs then.

This was _so_ not the way she planned her night on going!

It was supposed to be an easy job! A quick little scam, a little hoodoo, a little crystal crushing, some frog legs, and a nice big glass of Chardonnay.

Clearly that had not happened. In fact, Thea thought, it seemed an awful lot like her fellow cronies had led her to this job on purpose.

What a bunch of jealous female dogs! If they wanted her dead, they could have just cursed her themselves!

Why'd they have to let other creatures have a bite of her first?!

And oh yes, Thea knew. She knew who this boy was. More importantly, she knew _what_ he was.

Did he think she couldn't feel his fangs on her neck? Did he think she didn't notice that his smell was absolutely not human? That his flesh was dull and sickly? That his hands and fingers were long and bony, the fingernails attached to them sharp and pointed? That his breath reeked of rotting flesh and meat and bone?

Thea knew.

That's how she knew this was it for her.

There was no way out of this one.

No spell would ever work on one of … him.

A vampire.

She was doomed.

* Author's Note *

Did you know that Pluto and Trivia are actually Roman counterparts to Hades and Hecate? (Well, really, I believe that the Roman counterpart to Hecate is actually "Hekate" but ... you know, Trivia and Hekate have a lot in common!)

Thanks so much for taking the time to read this! It is my first attempt at an original story and I am quite proud of it , and I hope you all enjoyed it as well.

I love comments and reviews and random facts, by the way, and I especially LOVE feedback :)

I will try to update once a week (I have about 9 chapters done so far).

Thanks again all!

PS.

I own all of these characters and plot. They all came from my brain after an ice-cream buffet and some really cheesy movies. DO NOT STEAL! I will hunt you down and curse you.

Much love,

Viki xOxOxO


	2. Chapter 2

**Death and All His Friends:**

What could he really do to her? Other than suck her dry, of course. That was obvious. But then, Thea would bet that the other foul creature who had so cruelly injured her wrists earlier would not be pleased if the boy were to drain her of her life's blood. In fact, Thea was willing to bet that if they didn't have need of her for some strange purpose, then she would already be dead.

That thought was not pleasant, but it made the situation seem slightly more bearable. She was alive. For now.

And besides, she wasn't going to get her organs sold on the black market!

"Oh, my sweet, you don't have to worry. It's going to be much worse than that, I promise."

Thea shuddered. He could read minds!

Of course he could! The universe just found it hysterical to give a soulless demon the ability to stalk its prey with all of the good Lord's weapons in his arsenal!

Lucifer was a tricky bastard.

Thea's attention was further divided when the slam of heavy doors came from her immediate right.

"Boy, you had better not be getting any ideas, now. That little sugar plum ain't yours! Don't you remember your duties, now? You had best get yourself away from her, before your dumb mouth does something it's going to regret!"

With that chilling voice came a little hysterical giggle.

That wasn't the same man who had licked Thea before. This voice was colder, that laugh hollow. It came from above her strained arms and wrists.

A sharp pain in her forearm made her wince. She looked above, and saw a single yellow fingernail trail its way down her forearm to her wrist.

If the boy was a beautiful demon, then this creature was an aberration straight from Hell. Thea could see ridges of bone standing between his thick forehead, and lines of black ink covering the entirety of his foul face. Perhaps most frightening of all were his enlarged eyes, which were completely devoid of an iris and pupil, and instead held only a swirling black mass of maggots.

Thea must have begun screaming then, because, the fingernail disappeared. It came back with a blow to the face, so hard her head flew sideways.

This was not making the pain in her neck any better.

"Shut your filthy mouth, you decrepit excuse for a seer, or I'll ensure a long and painful death rather than the quick one my partner thinks would be best!"

He hissed this into her ear, and Thea's heart galloped its way into her throat.

"Now, now Inigo. That's really quite enough, don't you think? I mean, look at the poor girl. She's already all shaken up! Do you really want her blood to drain that quickly? Wouldn't you rather … savor her taste?"

Ah. That had to have been the first man, who had licked her tears. Thea shuddered heavily once more. A witch's tears had healing properties, her Aunties had told her. They were not for the unworthy, and certainly not for the Damned.

Well, the horrid demon had to be "Inigo", then. Which meant that … the tear thief was probably the ringleader of this motley crew.

I mean, he had to be! Thea couldn't sense any other Demons lurking about the shadows, and she knew from previous experience that the ugly henchmen were usually just minions. They were nothing but glorified bodyguards! And the boy was just that; a boy. Though he was hardly innocent – he still reeked of blood and pride.

These thoughts ceased to comfort her, however, as Inigo stuck his filthy nail into the crevice of her elbow and dug it into the fibers of her sensitive skin. It made a sickening sucking noise as it dragged its way through her expanded veins straight to her wrist.

Thea's scream was so loud it could have woken the dead. No pun intended!

"HUSH, little girl. You ain't going to feel this much longer, you hear? I mean, let me tell you now, I could have made this a lot worse, sugar. Don't you worry now, as soon as we get you halfway drained … you ain't going to feel much of anything at all!"

And with that said, Inigo chuckled.

"Quiet, you fool! Do you want to wake the whole of Savannah?! I TOLD you idiots to stuff her mouth with the gag, did I not? Must I do _everything_ myself?!"

Thea whimpered. She saw his meaty paw coming toward her face carrying a greasy rag. She tried to move her head sideways, but to no avail. The gag was in place before she could even utter a sound! So much for her second sense, she thought.

So this is how it would end.

Damn her Aunties.

Damn her Sisters.

If anyone deserved the burning pits of Tartarus, it was those dirty wenches!

What had been her undoing? Was it her sense of adventure? Her ability to embrace humans as companions and even lovers, at times? Perhaps it had been her allure?

Her incomprehensible ability to attract men to her person like a moth to a flame had proved sticky in more situations than not.

But that was no reason to send her to her death at the hands of such filthy beasts!

And then it hit Thea like an apple pie's aroma after its departure from a nice, hot oven. Of course! Why hadn't she realized it sooner? It had to have been that snake!

Thea was a direct descendent of the Savannah Cades. Her Auntie Meryl had once explained to her that her soul was directly linked to her blood. It was the equivalent of the juiciest, most rare, exotic, endangered animal. She was a _delicacy_.

Cassie always thought that might explain why her numerous lovers always mentioned that she smelled like … heaven in a woman's form. Flattery got them nowhere!

But her Aunt had surprised her one day.

"The blood is the life, my dear", Auntie Meryl had stated, with a slightly off-kilter smile on her face.

Thea had only laughed and asked her where she had picked up her antiquated movie lines. Auntie Meryl had not responded as she'd thought she would, Thea mused, as she looked back at the scene.

In fact, her Aunt had looked her seriously in the eye and said, "Theodora. Don't be crass. Mr. Stoker was a brilliant man. A horrid lover, that much was sure, but nonetheless a brilliant man!"

Thea had laughed in her face and walked out the door on the arm of her latest paramour. She had thought nothing of her Aunt's disturbing utterance.

But now? It made perfect sense! If her Auntie Meryl had known that her blood was some type of magical whiskey for the Damned, then surely her Sisters had as well. Nay, her whole family!

And if her Coven had known, then surely that slimy python Anabelle Jackson had as well! And if she had known, she would have gladly traded Thea's life in.

One of the maggots fell from Inigo's eye onto Thea's cheek. Needless to say, it brought her out of her reverie, and back into her current situation. She was so disgusted, yet she had not the energy to move her face to remove the vile creature from its precarious position.

She only saw long, tapered fingers with pointy ends as they reached down to pick the offending being from her tear-stricken cheek.

"Now, Milo. No need to be a hero, boy. She's not long for this world. And when she's gone, this blood will be ours to do with as we wish. Don't you wish to see your Creator suffer as you have suffered?"

Milo snarled. Of course he wanted to see Alistair suffer! What was the whole point of his existence if not to hunt his master to the ends of the Earth?! To achieve retribution after the torture he had put Milo through would be the ultimate price to pay.

If he had to steal the Seer's blood In order to see this occur, then so be it. She may have smelled unlike anything he had ever known in his 593 years on this godforsaken planet, but he certainly wasn't about to waste this opportunity to get his comeuppance over a silly girl!

Though she had a nice bum, he noticed. Firmly rounded and lovely, it was. In this century, it was so hard to find a suitable blood bag with a real body. They were all filled with silicon and gel implants, and everywhere! It was enough to turn a man to animals, Milo thought. Then again, perhaps not. Animals were not suitable for a member of the nobility.

Milo looked back at Inigo and Monty. The buffoons thought they were actually getting this blood! He couldn't believe how stupid they were. Milo was at least 300 years older than both of them. His strength and skills in combat pooled with his noble bloodline was no match for the two greedy mobsters. They were stupid and silly, only wishing to sell the girl's blood in order to make a tidy profit. Commoners, indeed.

Particularly Monty, who thought he was in charge. He certainly behaved that way, as he was the one who had met with the pretty blonde Witch who had traded in this goldmine of vitality for one of her own lives. Clearly, she wanted Theodora Cade dead. It was of no interest to Milo why.

All he and these two troglodytes wanted was the Cade girl's blood. Milo couldn't pinpoint exactly what made it so special, but he figured that it was not simply just because of her ancestors. The Cades had been a respected and prideful bunch of witches and warlocks in Savannah for over three hundred years.

Yet none of the family member's blood had smelled as rich and decadent as hers. Milo had to turn his nose away yet again, to stay in control of his manhood and his senses.

Now was the time to wait for Inigo and Monty to drain the girl until she lost consciousness and died, as it looked like she was close to doing.

Such a shame, to waste such beauty, Milo thought. She wasn't even fighting back, but rather, watching him with a wary eye.

Her hand twitched as she noticed her life's blood slowly ebbing from her outstretched arm.

Milo felt no remorse. He hoped that since she was a Seer, she had no more than one life. Seers usually didn't. They were good for only one generation, and then their time was up. The blonde witch on the other hand had been a shifter. Nine lives all came loaded in her arsenal, though she was but a new flicker of magic in a world of old enchantments.

Having the Cade girl stay dead would be a boon to Milo. She would not be missed by anyone, as far as he knew.

She was an outcast even in her own family of outcasts. Really, he was doing her a favor!

He looked once again at her and made the mistake of looking into her eyes. They held nothing but curiosity.

She was a strange monster, indeed.

Thea watched him watch her. He stood in front of her, head leaning to one side, lanky body looking ready to spring…

It was a shame, really.

She could have really had fun with this son of a bitch, Thea thought. He would have been the perfect distraction from everything.

But then, look where she had ended up. Perhaps Annabelle had done her a favor, after all. She had never wanted to be tied down. Her whole life, all she had wanted was to be free. She wanted to explore and travel and live, and she _knew_ she only had one life to do that. She wasn't about to waste it on some arrogant bastard and his future offspring.

Thea wanted to be like the wind; always moving, always traveling, always in motion.

How fitting that since she could never have that one small happiness that her life would end. It was pathetic. She was not sorrowful.

She would welcome Death, as she had welcomed life.

Perhaps he would be kinder.

*Author's Note*

Ta-Da! If you like, you comment/review/let me know, yes? :)

I try to update once a week!

Constructive criticism is also much appreciated.

xOxO - Viki


	3. Chapter 3

**The Blood is the Life:**

"I don't see her moving around, gents. But I can still hear her… liquids… sloshing around. Can't you? "

Milo certainly could. He wasn't sure that Inigo would be able to, since the big lug probably had all of his orifices stuffed with maggots. Then again, nobody cared about what the lumpy bodyguard of the three heard or saw. He was easily replaceable, though his maggots weren't. Milo would miss the little bastards, he thought. It was hard to find a good henchman these days!

"Something smells fishy here, I can tell you all that much. I never waited this long for one of them Witches to bleed out. Cut them up, I did. I sawed their bones apart, even, to get to that nice marrow. One time I even gutted a whole family of them! They all bled out real fast. But this one is a problem, gents."

Milo watched as Monty panicked and walked in circles. He was a simpleton. The man felt like he held power in his veins, so he behaved like the Alpha. A real Alpha didn't have to feel the power. He knew the power had no control over him; but rather, that the power was his to bring to the surface when he felt it was necessary. A real Alpha _was_ the power.

Milo averted his attention to the problem at hand. He watched her out of the corner of his eye. What he saw was disturbing in a new way.

The girl made no sounds. She made no movements.

The boy could not help but grudgingly acknowledge the fact that his lesser companion was right about one thing: the Witch was taking far too long to relinquish her life's blood.

He had cut up her kind before as well. None of them had lasted as long as she. They had all perished painfully, but relatively quickly.

At least he had mastered the art of carving over the years, Milo thought. If he had let one of the ruffians truly cut her up, they would have butchered her.

Not that he would have minded! But the thought of her tissue and meat flying about made Milo cringe in annoyance. He hated to clean other people's messes.

Besides, there was a way to release the liquid in a civilized and more cleanly manner. It took a longer amount of time to learn how to accomplish this method, but it was well worth it.

Better to clean the blood off his hands rather than his carpets! Persian carpets were expensive and nearly _impossible_ to replace with identical copies.

Yet.

Here she was, this grotesque little Seer, not even a full Witch, and she dared to outlast her own kind! How was it possible? Even Milo was confused.

Her blood, however, was oozing wonderfully. It had already begun to work both Inigo and Monty into a frenzy. The two were skipping about the factory, yelling and shouting in spastic yelps and grunts. The sound was horrendous! Had they been in a populated area, the children in the vicinity would have been scarred for life.

Milo smirked at the thought. This frenzy would prove useful in the minutes to come. It would be easier for the Alpha in charge to take over, casting the lesser beings out.

He just had to wait. Wait and see. Wait for the girl to die. Wait for the two baboons to begin morphing into their true forms.

But first … Milo _had_ to have a taste.

It was the blood that was the life, as he had taught others, as had been taught to him, once upon a time ago.

It was the blood that gave him and all his kind strength and agility, courage and bravery, lust and love. It drove them mad. It freed them, tore at their souls, and gave them peace at the same time. It was the bane of their existence.

And lately times had been tough. Blood was polluted within the human whelps which had for so long been the perfect hosts for Milo and his kind.

The twenty-first century had not been generous. Even children held barely but a pint of pure blood nowadays! Milo had to scavenge for his meals, as did his two current companions. Some nights they got lucky and found a lost child or a lawyer. Most nights they had to settle for housewives and teenage boys.

Milo did not like housewives. They couldn't keep their hands to themselves!

So, Milo thought that having a taste of the girl's blood would do him no harm. In fact, he thought it would give him the extra boost he needed in order to dispose of both Inigo and Monty. It was the perfect plan.

And he had not tasted fresh, pure blood in so, so long …

As Monty and Inigo danced beneath the panes of the roof of the old factory, Milo snuck closer and closer to the girl.

He noticed something very strange. Instead of her breathing getting slower and slower, it sped up. Her heartbeats spiked and accelerated. Her eyes fluttered. Once. Twice.

He was so close.

Milo rested his forehead against the wooden table she was restrained against. Her hand drooped over the edge of the table. The blood which stemmed from the jagged cut she had received flowed through her fingers down into a porcelain bowl placed on the floor, with an iron bottle next to it (the blood had to be poured into either porcelain or pure iron – that was the only way to retain its tangy texture and taste).

He could hear the two buffoons singing. They were dancing yet again, much to his chagrin. If luck was truly on his side, they would continue with their stupidity and he could get what his body so desperately craved.

She whimpered. The boy moved closer still. The iron tang entered his nostrils and refused to leave. He moved closer and closer still, until he was gripping her bloody hand in his own. His hand slipped over the red liquid, and he lifted her hand to his face watching the bloody fingers coming close to his mouth.

With a mighty groan, Milo placed his lips over her pointer finger and middle finger and sucked up all the blood they held.

The girl moaned.

Milo smirked. (He still had it!)

He moved his lips and tongue over her palm, pushing his nose against the rich fluid he found there. Milo traced every line and crevice that his hunger so eagerly pursued.

She cried.

His mouth continued its travels down to her wrist, where her pulse resided. Milo inhaled as much of her as he could, and then he took a deep breath and-

"BOY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU THAT SHE WAS NOT FOR EATING!"

Damn them all to hell! Couldn't they have WAITED but one more minute?!

Damn them! Milo had to make this quick. He crunched his feral canines into her yielding skin and took a giant swallow of her precious, precious blood.

And it was then that she cried out. She thrashed around and bucked and he was still holding on to that precious red liquid and he had to have it all and so he swallowed and swallowed and swallowed and she cried and he-,

"I SAID GET OFF BOY! Inigo, get his ass off of her before he takes it all!"

He was thrown to the wall and kicked in the stomach but not before he could get a sinister laugh of his own out.

Inigo only kicked him harder. Milo felt his ribs splinter and break, the delicate pieces lodging themselves into the organ systems below.

His lungs would certainly feel this in the morning, that was for sure!

He coughed once, twice, and spit out his own blood. Hers tasted much better, he had to admit.

Out of the corner of his eye, Milo watched Inigo and Monty untie the girl, getting ready to hang her upside down to gut her like a pig.

That would ensure that they got all of her blood.

But Milo couldn't let that happen. Oh no!

He had to have _more_.

There were no ifs, ands, or buts. He had not lived until this moment. He had not truly experienced anything there was to experience until he had placed his mouth over her delicate fingers. He had to have _more_ , and he had to make it last, damn it!

She had to be his. Only _his_ , and for one purpose only.

All it had taken was but a taste of her, and Milo was already deep in thought. He clutched his ribs in pain and thought hard.

Keeping her alive would be a boon to him, Milo finally concluded. That way he had the blood in the iron flask for his Creator, as well as a never-ending supply to get him to where he needed to go.

And if worse came to worse, then he could just get more blood from her. If the bottle came to some harm, or was stolen, he could just get more of the precious liquid right from the source!

Of course, this deviated from his original plans, but hey! This was always an uncertain business! Variables changed all the time!

He hadn't cared whether she lived or died, but by this one taste, Milo knew that he should have.

She was his ticket into Hell.

And if she didn't listen to him, then he would kill her.

He would suck her dry, the proper way. He would dry her veins and leave her body to rot in the desert.

With that final thought in his mind, Milo got up from his crouched position on the floor.

The only sounds Inigo and Monty made when he came at them with the force of a thousand wolves were empty, howling screams.

"You bastard! How could you?! We were supposed to work together! You are just like him, boy, just like- AGHHH-"

They only lasted seconds as he ripped their heads from their bodies. Not caring what he must have looked like, Milo approached the girl.

She had gone under again. Milo placed his hand against the artery on her neck. He felt a faint, slow pulse. That was good. She would live to see another day.

He released the bonds against her body, and looped his arms around her waist. With barely any noise, he threw her limp form over his shoulder and stalked towards the doors.

Another day he was alive was another day Alistair was. But with every day that came to be, so too did his presence within his master's new sphere.

Milo could easily begin the countdown.

*Author's Note*

Have I mentioned that I absolutely ADORE comments/reviews/words of any kind? I even like criticisms. Anything at all really :)

So, if you would care to, please leave me some feedback! I, too was an anonymous reader for many, many years. Then, one day, I found a story that was too good not to comment on ... and I had to make an account in order to do that and it was SO worth it!

Next week there will be naked bodies and showers ...

See ya'll next time!

xOxO - Viki


	4. Chapter 4

**Within the Heartbreak Motel:**

The world moved.

And spun. Then it shifted to the side and flipped backwards. The world was fickle and it was hurting Thea to feel it move.

Why was the world moving? Thea couldn't for the life of her remember why she felt this sensation. Actually, she couldn't remember anything.

Her eyes were closed and her breathing had slowed down considerably. Thea tried to lift her arms up over her head to shield her aching eyes. Why were her eyes aching? She didn't know, until the true pain hit her. With every tiny inch that her arms moved, intense aches shot through her. She groaned aloud, only to hear a sinister chuckle.

Wait.

That chuckle was familiar. But- how could it be?! Thea opened her eyes.

Death had not come after all.

He was much worse.

Her breathing sped up as she looked down to find herself in an old car, with her arms tied tight to her sides with rope. The rope cut into her bare flesh with every one of her attempts to loosen it, stinging her over and over again.

Thea felt fresh tears looming in her eyes. She looked over at her captor. He was casually driving, with merely one hand on the wheel. He did not meet her gaze.

"Wh-what-," Thea started to speak but was rudely interrupted.

"Now, now, darling. There isn't any need for you to open that sweet mouth of yours just yet. And I would appreciate if you could keep those moans to yourself. They can wait until we get to the motel."

And with that said, he flicked his hair to the side and continued to stare out into the road.

Thea did not like being shushed. She did not like being made into a fool. And she definetly did not like being kidnapped!

"You stupid son of a bitch! You let me out right NOW! I don't know where you and your idiot friends got the idea to AMBUSH me but you WILL LET ME GO NOW if you want to live!"

He laughed hysterically.

Thea couldn't believe this bastard's belligerence!

"Excuse me! Did you hear me, shithead?!"

She growled and tried to twist her arms out of their constraints only to find that her legs were bound together as well.

What the hell good was her magic if she couldn't use it to escape from situations like these?!

All of a sudden, her face was twisted to the side. Tears began to leak out of her as the pain from this grip on her fragile jaw and chin tightened.

"You will not speak to me like that again, Witch. You will not refer to me as anything but my given name, is that clear? Or you will not live to see this morning's sunrise!"

Thea whimpered and nodded her head.

"Now then, let's begin again, shall we? My name is Milo. If you do as I say from this moment on, I will be kind to you. You don't need to suffer, Thea."

With those words, he released her face from his death grip. Thea shook as the tears overwhelmed her.

She didn't notice his finger snaking its way through her hair until she felt his large hand grip the back of her head and pull it to his chest.

"D' you hear that, Thea?"

Thea didn't say anything. He waited for a minute and then crushed her face even harder against him. She could barely breathe and began to choke.

"I SAID, do you hear anything?"

He released her for a second as she blubbered and replied with a quick "no".

She knew what he was already. He didn't have to rub it in her face, for goodness's sake! Even a human could tell that he was otherworldly! He was doing it to scare her.

And it was working.

Thea had no idea who this vampire was. She had no idea why she was in this car, or why she was tied up. She was disorientated and in pain and scared because she was betrayed and she was supposed to be dead.

Hadn't she said Death would have been kinder?

The girl had felt herself dying after all! She had felt all the blood leak from her veins, and she had seen his face multiple times throughout the ordeal.

In fact, the last thing that Thea could remember was his eyes coming closer and closer and closer to her bloody arm. After that, she was out cold.

Oh.

But wait.

There had been a moment there, where she had felt herself – well- almost floating? Perhaps it had been more of a weightless feeling … but, nonetheless, she had opened her eyes briefly and …

She had seen Him.

The Devil himself.

He was coming closer and closer and closer to her still, as he had before. Only this time it was he who was covered in blood.

His hair stuck to the sides of his face and neck, matted and sticky. His clothing was drenched in it. He smelled of death, because he was Death.

Thea felt like slamming her head into the window.

Of course he was Death.

She had been sold to a very special creature.

Thea was in the arms of darkness itself.

She was broken out of her fear induced reverie by the boy's sudden slap across the face.

"Are you deaf woman? Have I not done you a favor? I have saved your pathetic life, Witch. You will repay me as I see fit."

Thea only gaped at him. Her cheek stung where his hand had left its mark.

"Now, you know what I am. You, as I am very sure, know what I am capable of. So I suggest that you do as I say. I can be very …creative…when I don't get my way."

She swallowed the knot building in her throat and began to speak.

"Wh-where are the others?" Thea dared to peak at his face out of the corner of her eye. He smiled.

She had noticed that the two other creatures were not in the car. Had they been here, she felt sure that she would have been molested (in a different way than the boy's preferences).

"Oh. They have been taken care of, not to worry." And with that being said, he chuckled again. Thea only shivered.

"Oh, are you cold?"

She shook her head.

"Come now; use your big girl words, Thea. Are you cold?"

She refused to give him the satisfaction of saying yes. She might have been his prisoner, but it wouldn't be long until he realized that she wasn't a pushover. And she didn't like condescending assholes.

"No."

Milo only made a small noise of indifference and went back to focusing all his attention on the road.

"Where are we going?"

"So, you do know how to speak without stuttering at every other word! Fantastic! And that is of no importance to you, Witch."

Thea glared at him. He glared back and looked straight into her eyes. This intense focus would have thrilled her at any other moment, but right now Thea was humiliated, enraged, and feeling a bit hopeless.

"Well, can you at least untie me? I'm obviously not going anywhere!"

She got another smack against the face.

"Watch your tone woman! This is the thanks I get for saving you! And just for that, you can sleep in these ropes tonight! See how you enjoy that, hmm?!"

Thea bit back her tears. She leaned against her seat and closed her eyes. She prayed that the darkness of sleep would take her away.

Alas, it was not to be. The car soon screeched to a stop in front of a dilapidated building which claimed it was the "Ever Motel". The "F", "O", and "R" were missing from the rest of the sign, having long since fallen and faded in the wooden post.

Cassie stared up at the building. Surely there had to be a way to get out of this mess, somehow. Someone would notice her, wouldn't they? They had to! It was impossible to ignore her screams. Even her neighbors told her that after she brought home her flavors of the season!

She glanced over at him.

He was going through a wallet, seemingly oblivious to her thoughts.

Then he came closer to her, his chest level with hers, his eyes looking down into her own. Thea felt her lungs expand under his still chest. He placed his fingers under her chin, and lifted it slowly. She lowered her eyes, a blush forming already.

How dare he touch her like this! She yanked her chin out of his fingers and sniffled loudly.

He only did it again. And this time he placed his lips only millimeters from her own, and it was then that she felt his breath mingling with her own. It was then that she smelled him again.

It was then that she happened to look into his open eyes as he looked down into hers.

"You will not move from this car. If I see you move, I shall rip your pretty head from your neck, at this precise spot." And with that being said, he touched the very back of her neck, slowly rubbing his fingers against the vertebrae there.

Thea could not help but shiver. She only nodded in assent and looked back down at her lap.

She felt him move from his seat and get out of the car. The air that was let in was refreshing and forgiving. The girl took a deep breath of it and shuddered. She was stuck.

She watched his retreating figure until it disappeared into the building. It was then that she really began to scream in frustration.

Milo did not understand her distress. Did she not feel relieved to have been saved from a most certain and gruesome death? Should she not have been groveling at his feet? What was wrong with females in this day and age?!

He felt sure, however, that he had made himself clear when he had let her know the consequences should she seek to escape from his vehicle. He trusted that he had instilled enough fear in her to get her to comply with his wishes.

For the moment, of course!

Milo walked into the dilapidated motel and went to speak with the man in charge of the rooms. Happily, the man's desk was located conveniently next to an open window where he could keep an eye on his woman.

His … woman. Milo liked the way that sounded.

"My dear man, I need your best room for the night!" He smiled at the roomkeeper, who looked at him as though he were an alien from Mars.

"Well, let's see here … now, you know, with it being honeymoon season and all, we are rather filled up…"

Milo grimaced. He would have hated to clean up yet another pesky human, but he would do it if he had to! There wasn't another motel or hotel for miles around and he sensed that the Witch needed a moment of peace. And perhaps a long bath. She was beginning to smell, and not in the delightful way he fancied, either.

"Surely you must have one room open, at least!" Milo's voice held a dangerous sway, and the man must have noticed for he automatically stated, "Well, now, I do have the deluxe honeymooner's suite open, sir, although it will cost you a pretty penny at this late notice!"

Everyone had their price. Milo only smiled and handed the man a card. It wasn't his, of course. Milo may have been a mercenary, but he was also a pauper. Humans weren't just convenient blood bags – they held his purse strings open as well (so to say!). This time, he had taken the Witch's wallet out of her pocket as he had distracted her with his presence.

It had worked marevelously!

The man handed back the card and Milo tucked it into his pocket for safekeeping. He took a look at the clock behind the man and noticed that the sun would soon be rising. He had to get the woman in the room as quickly as possible.

"Thank you my good man!" and with that, Milo strode out of the building and towards the car. He opened her door and froze.

She was asleep, as he could hear her heart beat. But she slept like the dead.

He tried to wake her, but she would not budge. Obviously the strain of her ordeals had taken their toll on her. Milo decided to untie her restraints and carry her to their room. It was the human thing to do, was it not?

So he untied her, and picked her up in his arms, slinging her own over his neck. The man at the desk didn't even bother inquiring about her disarrayed state. He merely stated that the way Milo carried her was apparently the perfect way to hold a woman, saying, "Bridal style is the best, my friend. They love being carried over the threshold!"

Milo frowned and headed up the stairs, but not before she woke up and opened her eyes wildly, her grip tightening around his neck. Something in Milo twisted at her touch. It was not pleasant and rather annoying, so he choose to ignore it, giving her a verbal warning instead.

"Do not even think about screaming, Witch."

He opened the door to their room, noting that it was located at the very end of the long hallway of doors. Perfect. No prying eyes and ears.

He leaned to enter the room and smashed the Witch's head against the door in the process. She cried out instantly.

Good. That would teach her to make his insides twist!

He dumped her on the surprisingly large and accommodating bed. Milo stripped off his bloody sweater and then the white t-shirt stained pink he had on underneath. He could not help but watch her watching him in that peculiar way of hers.

"You will shower and then you will sleep. And since I can sense the daylight outside, you and I shall stay here until tonight. Don't even think about escaping, because I will follow you and I will hunt you down like an animal and I WILL and CAN go into the sun, is that clear?"

She merely rolled onto her side away from him.

Well, Milo thought, she certainly wasn't going to be fed with that attitude! He took his jacket off and pushed her over to the other side of the bed.

"HEY! What are you doing?!"

"You are not clean. Do you really think I am going to let a bloody, smelly human sleep in the same bed as me?!"

She slapped him.

She slapped him.

Milo immediately rose from his side of the bed and pulled her hand up into the air, causing her battered body to follow.

Thea screamed. Milo clamped his hand down over her mouth and slung her over his shoulder, once again.

Then she began to cry. And cry and cry and cry. She cried all the way to the bathroom. She cried as he placed her on the toilet. She cried as he turned the water on to scalding in the old-fashioned, claw-footed bathtub.

But then she really began to cry as he came closer and closer to her.

Thea was scared. She was really, really scared. She had never been in this kind of trouble before. Sure, she made her share of trouble, but never, ever … did she ever get caught up in this kind of nightmare.

He came closer to her very slowly, as though he were approaching a wild animal.

He was the animal! Not her!

What was he doing?! Couldn't he leave her alone in peace for a measly few minutes?

She was crying so hard, she could barely see.

"I need you to calm down, Thea. D'you hear me?"

She heard him all right. Maybe if she cried long enough, someone might hear her…

"Nobody will hear you. You understand, don't you? This hotel was made for prostitutes and pimps and illicit affairs of all kinds. No one will help you. No one cares. Now stop your blubbering. "

But Thea only cried harder. She had been kidnapped and she had been almost bled dry and she had been held hostage in a car for hours. She was tired and sleepy and weak and hungry and dirty. And now he was planning on raping her!

"I said, QUIET."

And with that, he took her by the waist and lifted her up. She clung to him in fear and denial. She shook her head, quieting her cries.

"Please, don't- please, just- just, please, please don't …"

Milo heard her cries. He choose to ignore them. He would clean her himself if she refused to do it – there was not a chance in hell he could stand to sleep with the smell of her nearby otherwise. Especially because her scent held the scents of the mongrels he had gotten rid of.

She took a deep breath in at the exact moment he snapped all the buttons off her bloody tank top by yanking it open.

Then he turned her around and unbuckled her pants, watching the rise and swell of her breasts underneath their constraints. It would be a lie to say that he did not feel stirrings of desire. He swiftly put them aside. He could not afford to get distracted from his duties.

She only continued to cry.

He pulled her pants down and lifted her in his arms to take them off all the way. The water in the tub was nearly to the edge. He leaned over to turn the spigot off and turned back around to find her shivering by the door.

Thea looked anywhere but up. She shut her eyes tight and hugged herself. And then she was lifted once again into the air. His arms felt strong against her stomach. She wondered if it would hurt when he finally decided to kill her.

And then there was only a strange mixture of pain and bliss as he dumped her into the scalding water. It ached at first, but then she began to feel her muscles loosen up. The water level rose by a few inches and spilled over the tub as she once again felt his presence behind her.

Milo swept his arms around her stomach and placed her firmly against his pelvis. There she sat, shivering against him.

He reached for the soap and began to lather her arms and neck, and it was only after he had finished with her stomach that he felt her loosen her grip on his forearm.

He offered her the bar of soap and watched her take it, her eyes glistening with another round of unshed tears. He got out of the tub and stripped the rest of his wet clothing off, watching her the whole time. She backed up again.

He walked straight under the shower and turned around. It was not until he had finished and left the room that he heard her washing herself.

Thea finished drying herself off and headed back into the room she shared with her captor.

"You can take the right side, "was his only response to her entrance.

She walked to the right side of the bed and stood there shivering.

He sighed.

"What is it now?"

She blushed.

"I don't have any dry clothing."

He laughed.

"That's what sheets are for, love."

She tightened the towel holding her together. And then he sighed, leaned over, and threw his t-shirt at her.

"You may borrow this. I shall need it back tomorrow." With that said he rolled over and shut off the only light in the room.

Thea slowly placed the shirt over her head, furiously trying to ignore the smell wafting off of it. She dropped the damp towel onto the floor and jumped into bed.

Then she closed her eyes and tried to trick her mind into waking up from this nightmare she had found herself in.

*Author's Note*

Another week, another chapter.

Read, Review, Comment ... and thank you for giving this a chance!

This took forever, and I apologize for the grammatical errors that may have popped up here or there. I just wanted to get this chapter done, and the fried pickles that I was eating while writing were very distracting.

See ya next week!

xOxO - Viki


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